


Hypnotic

by Emsiecat



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Before the body switch (Good Omens), Crowley's Eyes (Good Omens), Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Fluff, Hypnosis, M/M, Post-Armageddon, Quote: You can stay at my place if you like (Good Omens), Scene: The Bus Ride (Good Omens), Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2020-10-04 23:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emsiecat/pseuds/Emsiecat
Summary: Hypnosis:/hɪpˈnəʊsɪs/noun: hypnosisthe induction of a state of consciousness in which a person apparently loses the power of voluntary action and is highly responsive to suggestion or direction. Its use in therapy, typically to recover suppressed memories or to allow modification of behaviour.-Averting Armageddon, discorporation, possessing the body of a human, and then puzzling out Agnes Nutter's final prophecy and practicing their body switch has taken it's toll on Aziraphale. The angel is exhausted and definitely needs to rest, Crowley can tell. However, Aziraphale has never bothered with sleep before and so is unsure how to go about it. Perhaps Crowley can help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that the idea that snakes can hypnotise with their eyes is a myth, but I don't think anybody ever told Crowley this! He believes he can do it, so he can. I'm guessing he's the reason the myth started in the first place!
> 
> This was intended to be a very short one chapter fic, but it's got away from me a bit and will be more than one chapter now, oops!
> 
> This is my first Good Omens fic (and is un-Beta'd), so I can only apologise for any glaring mistakes in lore or if anyone seems out of character.

_"You can stay at my place, if you like."_

All things considered, it had been downright decent of Crowley to offer to let Aziraphale stay at his flat, and no amount of blustering deflection or affected nonchalance would convince Aziraphale otherwise.

Given how unpleasant and frankly upsetting their last encounter before the angel's inconvenient discorporation had been, he could not help but feel that Crowley would have been well within his rights to simply let Aziraphale muddle along by himself and try to find his own place to spend the night.

But no, once again Crowley had proven himself to be a genuinely _good_ and _kind_ individual. Offering Aziraphale a place to stay even when they both knew that it could easily land them in even more trouble with their respective superiors… even if they were on their 'own side' now.

Still, despite all that had happened, even the fear of what might occur tomorrow or the memory of his bookshop's destruction could do little to dampen the flicker of hope igniting in Aziraphale's chest, which all but sang that he might earn Crowley's forgiveness for the way he had treated his dearest friend over the past few days.

A bus pulled up and Aziraphale started as he meant to go on, sitting himself next to Crowley rather than behind or in front or across the aisle from him as he had done numerous times in the past, his fingers barely brushing Crowley's.

It was the smallest of gestures, and perhaps if they had not known one another as long as they had it would not have seemed significant at all. However, Crowley's eyebrows rose in mild surprise and Aziraphale noted with pleasure the barely-there fond tilt to the demon's lips as he acknowledged the angel's presence next to him. It was an expression that left the angel feeling warmed and prompted a soft smile of his own, a smile that brightened significantly when Crowley moved his hand and let their fingers entwine in a definite hold rather than just a touch.

He could have left it at that, simply basked in their closeness and continued their journey in companionable silence. Aziraphale knew though, that he should try to atone and so when Crowley discreetly offered him the wine bottle again, he accepted it with quiet thanks, took a couple of fortifying gulps (ignoring Crowley's teasing remark that he was being greedy), and tilted his head a little closer to his friend in order to speak quietly.

"Crowley, I wanted to apologise."

He was graced with a frown and a quizzical, speculative glance over the rim of the demon's ever-present sunglasses, serpent eyes bright and glowing with curiosity under the muted lights of the bus. "What for?"

Aziraphale let go of Crowley's hand in order to twist the wine bottle he held anxiously, his own voice just shy of wretched as he replied. "For- well for being such a complete- such an utter _fool_, for not listening to you, for- for well _everything_ really! Quite honestly, I have acted the most _monumental ass_ these past few days and I- well I can only apologise and thank you for not giving up on me- or on the humans."

Crowley had snorted then, a restrained little noise of amusement in the back of his throat at the way Aziraphale had insulted himself, but his hands were gentle as he removed the wine bottle from Aziraphale's stranglehold. "Steady on, you'll break it." He offered the angel a flash of a grin, sincere and friendly despite those too sharp canines. "Angel, I appreciate the apology, but it's not needed. It all worked out alright in the end, yeah? And to be honest -and you know how much I hate that- I could have acted better as well, so I'd say we're even."

"You say you hate it but you're more honest than I am a lot of the time," Aziraphale grumbled, a little put out that he no longer had the wine bottle to take his nervousness out on and so had resorted to wringing his hands absently instead. "And- and just _how_ could you have acted better?"

"I was pushy, I didn't explain myself properly, and I didn't listen to you either. I didn't stop to consider what you might lose if you did relent and leave with me." Crowley took a quick swig of the wine and continued. "I put you in an impossible position. If we had done things my way then none of this would be here now-" here Crowley waved the bottle in a vague gesture of everything that lay beyond the bus windows in the evening gloom. "Not only that but you could- probably _would_ have Fallen."

"And what about you?"

"Hn?"

"You were in as bad a position as I. You could have been _destroyed_. I remember, you told me Hell had found out about the mix up with the Antichrist and you asked me to run away with you and I refused."

"You were doing the right thing-"

"But it didn't _work_."

"I never said it wasn't the _stupid_ thing." Another grin, one that had Aziraphale huffing and smacking lightly at the demon's arm.

"Do be serious, dear! I'm trying to tell you that I was wrong, and that you deserve an apology. I'm trying to thank you for staying despite the danger."

"We were _both_ wrong about a lot of things, and you deserve an apology as much as I do. Once again we cancel each other out, now stop fretting." Crowley's voice held an air of finality for all it was still unfailingly kind.

There was another huff from the angel as he wiggled in his seat, clearly not entirely happy with Crowley's apparent blasé mind-set about what Aziraphale felt was a very serious matter.

"For what it's worth," Crowley added voice just a shade quieter. "I forgive you, even though I never really blamed you."

"Oh now you're just using my own words against me." Anyone else could have mistaken the angel's tone for irritated, were it not for the amusement that brightened his eyes and coloured his cheeks. "And… I forgive you too, though there's really nothing to forgive."

"Glad we're finally on the same page then." Crowley smirked and gave a sort of triumphant salute with the wine bottle before draining it of the last dregs, much to Aziraphale's chagrin.

* * *

The remainder of the bus journey back to London was a quiet affair, the pair spoke little but Aziraphale had often found that words were not necessary where Crowley was concerned. He could not be entirely sure if this was due to having known one another for six thousand years, or if it was due to some other reason completely. What Aziraphale _was_ sure of though was that he was incredibly grateful that there was a bus to be quiet on at all. That there was Tadfield, and London, that there were humans, and animals, and wonderful food and drink, music, books (his heart twinged just a little at that thought), the entire _world_, and many more tomorrows to enjoy them all in.

There was Crowley…

And there so easily could not have been.

At some point over the course of the bus ride, the events of the day must have caught up to the demon and he had fallen into a doze, his head lolling until it had come to rest on Aziraphale's shoulder. He had not woken nor moved him.

Aziraphale felt drained himself, but he had never been one for sleep, besides which he was fairly certain his own experiences must pale in comparison to what Crowley had had to contend with over the past few hours. Crowley had told him what had happened as they were sitting on the bench waiting for the bus, his voice had been carefully casual, but Aziraphale could tell it had not been easy.

Crowley had faced Hastur and Ligur in his flat, killing Ligur with the holy water Aziraphale had given him decades ago, and trapping Hastur. He had entered the burning bookshop to try to find Aziraphale only to reach the bleak (if incorrect) conclusion that he was gone and that Hell must have been the one to start the blaze thus destroying him. He'd gotten drunk, then upon realising Aziraphale was in fact very much alive (if sans a body), had driven his beloved Bentley through the blazing inferno that was the M25 with only his own sheer force of will keeping the car together and himself from discorporating. He had stopped _time_ and created an entirely _new plane of existence_ for himself, Aziraphale, and Adam just to give them a chance to speak before it was too late, and _then_ he had been willing to face Satan himself with naught but a tyre iron for a weapon.

"You really are quite remarkable you know," Aziraphale murmured to his companion, voice scarcely above a whisper. He knew that if Crowley were to wake and hear those words, he would become embarrassed, and when he was embarrassed Crowley had a rather endearing propensity to hiss, but as charming as Aziraphale found this quirk, he was not cruel enough to try to embarrass Crowley on purpose whilst he was so tired.

Very remarkable really, and very dear to Aziraphale…

To realise just how dear was a somewhat troubling thought. It was not a new thought by any means, but until this point, it had been one that the angel had done his best to lock away and ignore for their own safety. Now though, Aziraphale could ignore it no longer. Heaven and Hell would not just let them off after they had essentially committed treason, they would come for them both, their retribution would be terrible and swift, of this he was sure. Were it only his own existence in jeopardy, Aziraphale probably would not have felt quite so bad, but Crowley was in danger as well and the thought of anything happening to the demon was simply unconscionable. 

Carefully, so as not to wake Crowley, Aziraphale leant his cheek gently against the top of the demon's head, brow furrowed in thought.

  1. _ When alle is ʃayed and all is done, ye must chooʃe your faces wisely, for soon enouff ye will be playing with fyre.__  
_

Agnes had not steered any of them wrong so far, even if her words could be difficult to decipher at times. If this last prophecy was truly for them, she _must_ know how they could face their former superiors and survive.

As the bus hit a small pot-hole and jostled its occupants, Aziraphale turned slightly to glare out the window as if admonishing the bus, or the road, for its' carelessness.

It was then that the angel caught a glimpse of his and Crowley's reflection against the dark of the night beyond and the patina caused by the lights both in the bus and beside the road. The slight distortion of their image almost made it appear as if he and Crowley were one entity rather than two.

_"Pity I __can't inhabit yours…_”

"Oh!"

" Wha'sssup, angel?" Soft and slurred, Crowley was barely awake from the bump in the road and Aziraphale's quiet exclamation.

"Nothing, nothing, try to get some more rest. I'll tell you when we get to London."

"Hm, good, thanksss."

Biddable enough for now, Crowley did as Aziraphale suggested and fell quiet once more, though this time Aziraphale was a little flustered to find the demon had turned his head to nuzzle into his neck.

_Best not to think on it too much,_ Aziraphale resolved, trying to will away his blush and the warm, tingling sensation that had settled quite comfortably in his chest.

Instead, Aziraphale would think more on Agnes' prophecy and the inspired, but somewhat mad idea that had just begun to take root in his mind.

If it worked then they may just be able to survive both Heaven and Hell's wrath after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley's flat was in Mayfair and would have rightfully earned the descriptors 'palatial', 'luxurious', or 'sumptuous' in any estate agents' spiel, were it not for the startlingly minimalist way Crowley had chosen to furnish the place. Oh, to be sure all the items within those four walls were the finest quality and likely cost more than any honest mortal could afford, as was the demon's wont. However, there was just so much _space_ and so little to ornament that blank canvas of varying shades of white and grey with that Aziraphale was reminded strongly of Heaven. It was a comparison that left the angel feeling rather uneasy.

"- All I'm saying is that you should have woken me up," Crowley protested from the kitchen doorway. The clinking of a teaspoon in a china mug sounded more forceful than necessary given the demon's agitation. "What if another one of _them_ had appeared on the bus while I was sleeping?"

Crowley had forgone his sunglasses once they had stepped inside his flat, his yellow eyes now glared with baleful meaning at the vaguely Ligur-shaped stain on his office floor that Aziraphale insisted on cleaning up himself. 

"I would have woken you then," Aziraphale replied blithely, ignoring Crowley's pique in favour of focusing on the task at hand.

Crowley had been irritable once they reached London and he had woken up properly, complaining to the angel that he should not have allowed him to fall asleep. His mood had not improved one bit when upon entering the flat, Aziraphale had all but shoved him away from the scene of Ligur's demise and refused to let him anywhere near his own office until he could be sure not a drop of holy water remained.

"By which time you could have already been destroyed."

"You know I am rather offended that you're so quick to assume I couldn't hold my own against a demon for a few moments. After all, I've been dealing with _you_ quite successfully for several millennia now."

"Don't act stupid, Aziraphale, doesn't suit you." Crowley grumbled, clearly in no mood to be teased.

Crowley stalked over to where Aziraphale crouched, and the angel noted his friend's normally loose-limbed swagger had tightened into something tense and purposeful as he glanced up to watch him approach. Had Aziraphale not known any better he may have described the demon's movements as predatory, but his expression spoke volumes, Crowley was feeling hunted and on edge.

For all his bristling and prickly attitude, Crowley still stopped obediently when Aziraphale raised a hand to keep the demon at bay as he finished miracling away the remains of Ligur and the holy water that had killed him. 

Waving a hand over the spot on the floor, Aziraphale closed his eyes briefly, testing the air for any traces of the holy water that could still be present and pose a threat to Crowley.

Satisfied nothing remained; the angel straightened and accepted the mug of cocoa Crowley had kindly prepared for him despite his annoyance at Aziraphale's seemingly careless attitude.

"Crowley, I really don't think we've anything to fear; not for tonight at least. Heaven and Hell will certainly want to punish us for this, but right now, they will be 'licking their wounds' so to speak. I imagine there were angels and demons aplenty spoiling for a fight today, and now that there won't be one, our superiors will have their hands tied dealing with them."

"I'd rather not rely on assumptions if it's all the same to you," Crowley hissed the words, but they lacked the heat Aziraphale would have expected if the demon was truly vexed with him. "Look I-"

Aziraphale blinked innocently at Crowley over the rim of his mug as his friend cut himself off with a soft utterance that the angel could not quite make out, but that sounded displeased.

Crowley turned on his heel, walked a few paces, and turned back again, running a hand agitatedly through his already mussed hair.

"- I thought I'd lost you today_. Really_ lost you. Not just discorporated, but completely destroyed. So you'll have to excuse me if I seem a little on edge. I'd rather be overly vigilant than-" Crowley huffed, hissed, and made an aborted gesture like he might grasp at Aziraphale's arms but then seemed to think better of it at the last moment. His irises had expanded to usurp the whites of his eyes entirely as the angel had noticed often happened when his friend was particularly stressed. They flicked over Aziraphale's face as if searching for something before the demon sagged slightly and finished his sentence in a voice just a touch hoarse. "I'd just rather be overly vigilant than risk going through that again, alright?"

"Oh, Crowley..." Aziraphale's brows knit in worry over the torment he could sense in Crowley's mind. He wasted no time in setting aside his drink in favour of reaching out one hand, still warm from where it had been curled around the mug, to cup Crowley's cheek in reassurance.

Crowley intercepted the motion, catching Aziraphale's hand gently between both of his own.

"Just… humour me, angel, please."

"Very well, if it will make you feel better."

"It will." Crowley's thumb brushed over Aziraphale's knuckles before he seemed to come back to himself and let go of the angel's hand and cleared his throat pointedly, his irises retracting to a more human shape as he did so despite a pale flush that had settled high on his cheeks.

"You wanted to tell me something? -On the bus I mean. Was still half-asleep but you mentioned telling me something once we got to London, so-" Crowley nodded once, waved in a vague 'carry on' gesture and made his way back into the lounge as Aziraphale retrieved his cocoa.

"Yes, yes that's right." The angel bustled over to the sofa, his own cheeks feeling rather flushed and the hand Crowley had held quite pleasantly warm, warmth that had little to do with the mug he held, Aziraphale was quite sure. "It has to do with Agnes Nutter's final prophecy."

"Right?"

Crowley did not settle himself immediately on the sofa as Aziraphale did. Instead, he circled it slowly, eyes unblinking and roving from Aziraphale himself to every corner of the room.

He had done this before, Aziraphale recalled, his memory flitting back over several of their historical meetings. Until now the angel had just chalked this up to an odd little personality quirk, or something snake-y in Crowley's makeup that, much like his eyes, the wily demon just could not shake.

Cautious. His mind supplied suddenly. _Protective!_

Many a time they had met during their Arrangement, Crowley had done this and Aziraphale realised now it was not merely some idiosyncrasy; Crowley had been looking out for danger each and every time. His ill temper following the bus journey when he had let his fatigue lower his defences enough to sleep despite that perceived danger just proved it.

On Crowley's second measured circuit of the sofa, Aziraphale reached out and caught the demon's sleeve. "Crowley, sit down and let me explain. You'll make me dizzy circling like that."

Voice soft and smile reassuring, the angel caught Crowley's gaze and tried to convey with his eyes: _I understand. Please believe we're safe for now._

Crowley huffed, but after giving the room one last lingering appraisal, he joined Aziraphale on the sofa and gave the angel his full attention.

"Heaven and Hell will want to make examples of us for what we did," Aziraphale began without preamble. "And to be perfectly honest I can't see Hell just demoting you to paperwork for a century or making you walk the Hellhounds. I don't think even trying to entreat Her to make me Fall will satisfy Heaven either. I really do think they'll want to… pull out the big guns for this. They're going to want to destroy us completely. They can't risk any other subordinates ever trying to disobey as we did."

"Holy water and hellfire it is then." Crowley muttered.

"Quite."

"So, what revelation did you have regarding Agnes' prophecy?"

"She said we would have to 'choose our faces wisely'. I rather think she may have been speaking literally."

"You mean-"

"Hellfire won't hurt you, and holy water won't do a thing to me. My dear, I do believe Agnes thinks we should swap places! 'Choose your faces wisely' we need to swap bodies."

"Right, yeah, 'course, great. How precisely are we going to do that? I thought we'd established you trying to inhabit my body would just end… messily… for the both of us. Incompatibility 'n all that. "

"Yes, me trying to inhabit your body _while you're still in it_ would be a complete disaster I'm sure, but if we attempt to posses one another at the exact same time, it shouldn't be much different to how I possessed Madame Tracy earlier today. Our essences will simply trade places as it were, mine into your corporation and yours into mine."

"Right, good, and you're sure that doing this won't cause-" Crowley paused and mimed an explosion, his face a picture of distaste as he clearly imagined such an outcome in graphic detail.

"My dear boy, I'm not sure of anything, but this has to be worth a try does it not? Think about it, even if we do end up-" Aziraphale nodded as Crowley grimaced and repeated his mime. "Yes, that. We're really in no worse a position than if we're caught by our superiors unawares: At least this way things end on _our_ terms."

Crowley wrinkled his nose. "Bit of a bleak outlook either way. You're right though, I think. We might as well give it a shot."

"The old college try." Aziraphale chimed in needlessly and Crowley could tell from the way the angel was drumming his fingers in a staccato rhythm against his thighs that he was feeling apprehensive about his idea even though he had tried to adopt a matter-of-fact manner.

"So… how are we going to do this then?" Crowley crossed an ankle over his knee and leant back, spreading his arms over the back of the sofa in a cavalier fashion, hoping to convey a relaxed air to the worried angel so that in turn he might feel calmer himself.

"Oh well- I _presume_ it would be like possession-"

"You'll have to talk me through it, angel. I've never actually possessed anyone before."

"Truly? I rather thought your people were all for that sort of thing."

"Yeah well, always seemed a bit cliché and trite, the whole demonic possession lark. 'Course it was very _de rigueur_ back when humanity was young, but it never sat well with me. I like the whole free-will gig too much to take that away from someone by controlling them."

Aziraphale was wearing a satisfied little smile following this speech, all hints of nervousness suddenly gone, and Crowley just _knew_ this meant he was about to accuse him of being _nice_ or _kind_, a _good soul_, or some such rubbish, so continued in a hurried ramble.

"Plus I've always been a bit more attuned to the ol' serpent form y'know. Didn't really want to risk taking control of another body only to forget my human-demon self and find myself stuck or something awful like that. Speaking of… just hoping I don't wind up getting myself stuck in your corporation, I mean it's- well it's-"

"I know, it's soft, probably not really to your taste," Aziraphale mumbled giving Crowley's lanky form a once over.

Crowley frowned at the interruption and carried on heedlessly. "I was _going_ to say it's beautiful _but _that I'm pretty attached to the one I've got so would prefer to get it back, thanksss."

"Oh! Oh well, thank you."

It was only as Crowley noted the blush and the truly radiant smile lighting Aziraphale's face that his words caught up to him, and the demon turned his head from the sight, coughing awkwardly.

"Yeah well, don't go smiling like that while you're wearing my face. Give the whole bloody game away."

"Oh, yes, right, of course."

Aziraphale then schooled his features into such a stoic expression that was so foreign on the affable angel's face that Crowley could not help but bark a laugh at the change, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten.

"'S about right. So- mutual possession. Care to try?"

"Yes, yes, the thing is, this was a lot _simpler_ with Madame Tracy because I was discorporated at the time. I really didn't have much of a choice _but_ to find a receptive body. Now I'm back in my own corporation however-"

"You think it's going to be a bit more difficult? Your essence isn't going to want to give the body up?"

"Something like that, yes."

"Well as I said, you're more the expert in this department, not me. If we can't figure out a way to do this I'd say we're royally fu-"

"- Point taken, _thank you_."

Crowley smirked at the interruption, but his expression quickly morphed into one of surprise, as Aziraphale determinedly drained the last of his cocoa, set the mug on the floor, then turned bodily towards him and held his hands either side of Crowley's face, where they wavered a little hesitantly not quite touching the demon's skin.

"I think- I'm wondering if it's a little bit like being stuck in a darkened room. One would know there is a destination one needs to get to just ahead, but it cannot be _seen_. You would need to _feel_ your way across the room to reach the other side wouldn't you."

It was a statement not a question, but Crowley nodded mutely all the same, swallowing thickly.

"When I needed a body before I could easily see where I needed to go because I had no body of my own to anchor me. Now I do so- I need to _feel_, to tether myself so I can let go of the body I'm in and go to yours instead."

"Like a life-line to pull you in?" Crowley frowned, thinking he may have caught the thread of Aziraphale's thoughts.

"Yes- yes that might be a better analogy."

Aziraphale shuffled minutely closer and Crowley noticed from his peripheral vision the angel's fingers wiggling in anticipation, much as they did before he began one of his terrible magic tricks.

"We'll have to do this at the same time mind. If we do it one at a time, I don't think it will work."

"Right so I-" Crowley swallowed again, hands rising to mimic Aziraphale's either side of the angel's face.

"Yes. I think- I think if we close our eyes and concentrate on each other. Think of each other and _imagine_ it happening it should. That's sort of what I did when possessing Madame Tracy anyway. I imagined it happening and it did. After all, the Quartermaster said angels couldn't possess people but-"

"Aziraphale," Crowley murmured. "Let's give it a try shall we?"

"Oh, yes."

Aziraphale's eyes fluttered closed at the same moment he felt Crowley's hands cup his cheeks. They were cool against his flushed skin and in turn Aziraphale could feel the jut of Crowley's cheekbones and angle of his jaw beneath his own palms.

It was… pleasant, the angel mused and a smile came unbidden to his lips in spite of his lingering nervousness.

"For what it's worth," Crowley mumbled, his voice sounding rather distant and his thumbs caressing Aziraphale's cheeks in a way that quite stole his corporation's breath. "If this does go all pear shaped, you should know that spending time with you has made these last six thousand years pretty bearable."

"The feeling is quite mutual, dear."

Aziraphale concentrated as hard as he could on the demon- _his_ demon- his _friend_ in front of him and imagined them trading places, his corporation, the world around him, reality all beginning to feel insubstantial and far away. 


	3. Chapter 3

Opening one's eyes to find one's own face staring back at you had to rank quite high on a list of disconcerting life experiences, Aziraphale thought a little numbly as he stared at himself- or rather Crowley in shock. Especially disconcerting considering that said face was wearing an expression that Aziraphale very rarely allowed himself to show: Quiet awe, surprise, and something… something dare he say _ineffable_, but that the angel would hesitantly describe as _fond_ or _impressed_, perhaps even _smug_.

It was an expression Aziraphale had caught the demon wearing on occasion when they interacted and the angel had never quite understood why Crowley would look at him that way.

"It worked!" It shouldn't have shocked him to hear his words exclaimed in the demon's own cadence given that he was clearly no longer inside his own body, but Aziraphale still felt himself (or rather himself that was Crowley), start a little at the sound.

"Well, this is a first for the history books." Crowley drawled back with Aziraphale's voice, and his face morphed from something indescribable into an appearance the angel was all too familiar with seeing; a mischievous, sharp smirk that widened into a truly devilish grin.

Ah, well that could be a problem.

"Yes, yes, but you're still _you_. I mean, you're- _we're_ still too much like ourselves."

As if to highlight his point, Aziraphale removed his hands from where they still rested against Crowley's - his corporations' - cheeks and leant back waving demonstratively first at Crowley's relaxed and lounging posture, then at his own prim-and-proper straight-backed deportment.

Crowley let his eyes rove over Aziraphale in his body and made a considering little noise. "Yeah, got a point there. It's all well and good looking the part physically, but if you toddle off like that and run into the likes of Hastur or Beelzebub, they're gonna know straight away something ain't right."

"The same could be said for you. I would _never_ sit like that."

There had always been a small, private part of Aziraphale that had found Crowley's bearing to be just a little scandalous. His body language had always exuded more self-assurance and confidence than Aziraphale could ever hope to muster, but there was something a bit more to it than that. The angel had shied away from the thought when it had first struck him back in Paris in 1793, but there was no escaping the fact that he_ had_ thought it: Crowley simply looked like temptation personified when he lounged the way he did. Now to see Crowley sitting like that in _his_ body, it unfortunately turned from temptation to just plain mortifying.

Crowley snorted. "Nothin' wrong with the way I sit, angel. You just don't let yourself relax."

"I don't speak like that either," Aziraphale added with a touch of petulance before continuing, "and whether I let myself relax or not is beside the point; you said it yourself, if we act like ourselves around our superiors they'll notice immediately, even if they're not usually the brightest buttons in the box."

"Is that a negative critique of Heaven's denizens I'm hearing there? Colour me impressed, Aziraphale."

The angel flushed and wiggled in his embarrassment, an odd sight for Crowley to witness his own body doing before Aziraphale ducked his head and mumbled. "Not a negative critique so much as an unfortunate truth I've come to observe over time."

Crowley, quite gratifyingly, _cackled_.

"Oh hush."

"No, no you're right; they're not the brightest buttons, any of them, which will make it all the worse if they do catch us out."

Crowley regarded Aziraphale for a moment before seeming to come to a decision; he smacked a palm to the arm to the sofa resolutely then pushed himself to stand, holding his other hand out for Aziraphale to take to pull him up beside him. "Come on then, we're going to have to practice this charade. We've known each other six thousand years, give it a few hours and we'll have the hang of it, because I'll be damned… again, if I let any of those idiots trip us at the finish line."

* * *

"How do you walk like that anyway?"

"Like what?"

"The whole- the whole swaying thing, the swagger you have."

"All in the hipsss. It's a sssnake thing." Crowley smirked and demonstrated with Aziraphale's body.

"Oh for goodness sake, that looks- I look ridiculous doing that, don't. And- and how does that make even a lick of sense? Snakes don't _have_ hips!"

"This one does."

"I swear you've got more leg than necessary."

"Feeling a bit put-out that I'm finding this easier than you are, hm?"

Crowley was teasing to try to lighten the mood, Aziraphale could tell, but the sad fact remained that he'd hit the nail on the head with that remark. Crowley _did_ seem to find this whole body-swap business easier than him, and they both knew deep down that if Aziraphale didn't manage to successfully pass as the demon at the crucial moment, then it could spell the end for them both.

"I must confess, for all my love of theatre, I've always been utterly rubbish at acting."

"Tried it did you?"

Aziraphale attempted to manoeuvre what Crowley had jokingly dubbed his 'demon suit' into an acceptable saunter once more, and only managed a handful of steps before knocking his knee on the coffee table in a graceless stumble that had Crowley gently catching him by the elbow.

"Yes, once or twice," Aziraphale grumbled. "Shakespeare was ever so kind, bless him, but in the end explained that my 'role as an audience member far outshone my abilities on the stage itself'."

"Ouch."

"Well, at least he was honest and didn't let me continue making a complete fool of myself."

"If it's any consolation, you're definitely getting better. You haven't face-planted onto the floor for a good hour now."

Aziraphale _glowered_ and Crowley couldn't help but grin in response. "There, see? That's definitely an expression I'd make."

"I know you're just trying to cheer me up, but it won't stop me worrying you know. If I can't become an acceptable you they'll figure us out and destroy us for sure, Crowley."

"Believe me; I'm well aware of that. You're being too hard on yourself though. You've only been in my body a couple of hours now and the fact you're standing upright at all on those drain-pipes of mine is nothing short of a miracle. Took me ages to get used to it when I first got that body."

Aziraphale smiled despite himself and gave Crowley's borrowed arm a friendly pat. "If I weren't afraid of offending you again I'd certainly start telling you how nice and kind you're being at the moment."

"Oh no, by all means go ahead," Crowley smiled beatifically with Aziraphale's face before adopting his tone and mannerisms with enviable accuracy, touching a palm to his chest and looking very holier-than-thou. "I'm an angel, I _am_ nice."

"Now you're just mocking me," Aziraphale sighed, but there was a telltale flicker of amusement in his gaze.

"The thing is angel. You've got yourself so worked up about this body-swap and fooling our head-offices business that you're not relaxing. Just like I said."

"You do realise that telling someone who's anxious that they need to relax has never once worked in all of creation, yes?"

"I know," Crowley held up his hands placatingly before setting them on Aziraphale's shoulders. "All I'm saying is that while you're agonising over the details your mind isn't going to be able to let your new body move naturally. You're holding yourself tense and that's why you can't get the walk right and keep tripping, I used to do exactly the same."

"What do you suggest then?" Aziraphale_ didn't_ pout, he was in a demon's body and demons did not pout, but it was a near thing.

"How about a tour?"

"Sorry?"

"A tour of the flat. 'S far as I can remember you've never visited me here, let me show you around and take your mind off things for a few minutes."

"I'm not sure that will work as much as you think it will…"

Aziraphale was thus treated to his own face staring at him in a way that was openly imploring and ever so soft, blue eyes widening in a way he had only ever witnessed in the most beseeching and beguiling of creatures (notably cats and dogs, he recalled), that were begging for a treat or extra fuss.

"I- oh come now I do _not_ look like _that_."

"Oh you do, you _really_ do."

Aziraphale spluttered, half-formed denials on Crowley's forked tongue, but he didn't have a chance to argue his point as the demon in angel's 'clothing' slung a companionable arm 'round his shoulder and led him away from the lounge. "C'mon, let me show you around, we'll start with my plants, no coddling them mind."

* * *

Crowley's flat, minimalist as it was, did house some interesting items along with the truly luscious and verdantly beautiful plants Crowley had mentioned.

Aziraphale had wanted to spend a little longer admiring them, but Crowley had only allowed him a few minutes before steering the angel away, mumbling that said plants would get too big for their boots… or pots if given too much praise.

The angel mused over that statement for a moment, and was considering questioning Crowley on what he meant by it, and just _how_ he achieved such wonderful results with his plants, when he caught sight of the statue on the way out of the room.

A stately stone eagle stood sentry just beyond the door, wings outspread and impressive despite how it was cast in shadow.

The statue reminded Aziraphale strongly of the lecterns often found in churches, but why on Earth would Crowley have something so reminiscent of a religious artefact in his flat? Kind or not, his friend _was_ a demon, and should naturally balk at such things.

"Crowley, what is-?"

"Oh nothing, just- you know, thought it made a nice statement piece-"

Crowley attempted to redirect Aziraphale's attention without success and made quite a remarkable impression of the angel by flapping his hands and bustling over to try to intercept Aziraphale from getting a closer look.

Too late.

Aziraphale in Crowley's body naturally had longer legs and his bigger stride brought him close to the statue before Crowley could guide him elsewhere. 

Up close Aziraphale could see the fine details clearer, even given the dim lighting of this corner. He had been correct; this was _definitely_ a statue from a church. This close to it, Aziraphale could sense the barest traces of holy energy about it still. There was something achingly familiar about it too.

"Crowley what in the world?-"

Aziraphale ran his hands over the sculpture, picking out the relief of the feathers and the cool rasp of the stone at his fingertips. There was something else too. The energy from this figure had diminished that much was true, but it was still undeniably a relic from a church and upon close inspection, Aziraphale could also see that the back and wings of the eagle were blackened, damaged, by fire perhaps.

The realisation struck suddenly, of just _why_ this eagle conjured up a whiff of nostalgia in him.

A church. A demon and an angel. Nazis. A bomb. And some miraculously unscathed books flickered before his mind's eye.

"Gracious, Crowley is this-?"

"Yeah- yep. It's from that church. 1941."

"But why-?"

"Souvenir." Crowley replied shortly, a palm resting on Aziraphale's back as he attempted to turn the angel away from the relic to no avail. Aziraphale was transfixed.

"Yes but-"

Crowley groaned, a frustrated little growl in the back of Aziraphale's corporations' throat that, despite different vocal chords, sounded very _Crowley_.

"I hadn't seen you in _years_. Ever since that- the whole holy water debacle. I just wanted a- a sort of memento I suppose, in case it all went tits up again. In case I- you know I went and said something stupid and mucked it up-"

"In case _you_ mucked it up? Crowley our little… _disagreement_ was hardly your fault. I misjudged things entirely."

Crowley levelled him with a flat look.

"Well alright, it wasn't _only_ your fault. We _both_ could have communicated better that day I think."

"Seems to be a bit of a running thing with us; miscommunication."

"Hm well, I like to think we'll get better with time."

"Six thousand years not quite long enough?" Crowley quipped.

"Well we've hardly spent a great deal of time together in those six thousand years have we? We've had the Arrangement of course, but we haven't really been able to spend days or weeks or months together very often due to- well the whole 'opposite sides' thing."

"Are you saying you'd like to?" There was something just a touch incredulous and almost painfully hopeful in Crowley's tone. Almost as if he couldn't quite believe Aziraphale might want to spend anymore time together once all this was over and done with, and Aziraphale felt another spike of hot guilt in his stomach at the reminder that, especially over the past few days, he had been a rather horrible friend.

"I would." Aziraphale replied resolutely. "Providing we survive what Heaven and Hell have in store for us, I'd like nothing better than to actually spend some time with you without all the… the subterfuge and worry. None of the Arrangement nonsense. Just the two of us."

A slow, warm, curl of a smile appeared on Crowley's lips, that looked quite at home on his angelic façade and Aziraphale felt his own lips lift in response. "Well, maybe I'll take you up on that offer of a picnic after all then."

"Oh, I definitely think The Ritz is in order first after the week we've just had."

"Fair enough. Ritz, then picnic. Hell, then I might even drag you off on a road-trip or something. You definitely need to see more of the world than Soho this century. You've been cooped up in London too long."

"Only if you promise to attempt to stick to the speed-limits. Otherwise I might just have to insist on driving instead." Aziraphale finally turned away from the stone eagle and made his way back the way they had come, trying to tamp down the blooming affection he could feel growing within him. They weren't out of the woods just yet.

"You can't drive," Crowley blustered, following just a pace or two behind. "You don't even know _how_ to drive!"

"Apparently neither do you," Aziraphale drawled.

"Cheeky bastard. And here I was about to offer to teach you."

And there it was again, that expanding, buoyant, joyous bubble of tenderness that filled the angel with a tremulous but shimmering vision of what might be. Dangerous perhaps, foolish, but Aziraphale couldn't help it. Just one more hurdle and he and Crowley might be able to have this. Spend time together without any concern of being found out by their superiors, take up silly little hobbies, travel, Crowley might actually really offer to teach him to drive. It wasn't something the angel had ever considered wanting to learn before, but now that there was even the smallest possibility of it becoming reality, Aziraphale found the idea strangely tempting.

They made their way back to the lounge and carried on through, Crowley showing off his kitchen, his office, and even his bedroom, chattering on about his various belongings and how modern living really was something to embrace.

("Please, for Someone's sake at least let me buy you a proper smartphone, angel.")

He even hinted, voice just a touch _too_ casual for it to be an after-thought that Aziraphale could stay at his flat for as long as he wished, what with the bookshop gone and Aziraphale now without anywhere else to go.

And it was as Aziraphale stepped forward to clasp Crowley's hands and ramble his heartfelt thanks that he realised that the demon had been correct. Taking his mind off the body-swap really_ had_ helped him move more naturally. He hadn't tripped even once during this impromptu little tour of the flat.

He was grateful, for this and of the offer of somewhere to stay long-term. So grateful in fact, that as they passed yet another more _interesting_ statue, Aziraphale felt magnanimous enough not to remark upon the very suggestive nature of it. Although, his amused smirk may have given him away somewhat as Crowley went rather red in the face and muttered something about it being _artistic-license, nothing more than that!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking so long over this chapter, but I've been plagued with ye olde writer's block, not to mention I'm suffering with a horrible cold this week, ugh!
> 
> This fic really has gotten away from me it seems. It was supposed to be a tiny little one shot, but instead it's suddenly 3 chapters long and still a bit more to go! I hope you lovely folks reading this don't mind too much.
> 
> As always, this is un-Beta'd so please do feel free to point out any glaring grammar mistakes that might be lurking in here.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!


	4. Chapter 4

"I think we should probably swap back again." Crowley stated some time later after Aziraphale had explored the flat to his satisfaction and finally felt able to walk naturally in Crowley's corporation.

"Whatever for? Wouldn't it be more prudent to simply remain this way until Heaven and Hell make their move?"

"Mmmnyeah probably, but you said yourself that you didn't think that would be tonight and I'd like to make sure we actually _can_ return to our own corporations."

Aziraphale opened his mouth, almost certainly to point out that it just wouldn't be _logical_ for this to only be possible one way so Crowley continued.

"'Sides, I'd really like a bit more sleep, and I just don't think it would feel right sleeping in a different body."

Aziraphale paused, and frowned thoughtfully before humming as if in understanding. Although he had never really seen the appeal in letting his corporation fall unconscious for hours at a time as humans (and on occasion, Crowley) did and so did not really have any basis for comparison there, he could definitely empathise with a desire for comfort. It was one of the many reasons he kept his clothes for as long as he did. Once one found something that agreed with the senses, be that a particular fabric on one's skin, or in this case a particular skin one wore like fabric, it just felt downright _wrong_ to change it.

Asking Crowley to sleep in his unfamiliar corporation would be just as disagreeable as asking Aziraphale to wear a brand new, severely starched shirt… or, God forbid… _skinny jeans_.

"If it will make you feel more comfortable, then of course." Aziraphale reached out, intending to place his hands either side of Crowley's, or rather, his face as he had before, only for Crowley to catch his wrists at the last moment and tangle their fingers together instead, palm to palm.

"Feels a bit weird to do that when it's my own face staring back at me," Crowley shrugged and looked rather apologetic about it, but Aziraphale only smiled and gave the hands in his grasp a reassuring little squeeze.

Both angel and demon closed their eyes, concentrated once more, and within moments were back in their usual corporations. Crowley rolled his narrow shoulders experimentally, and Aziraphale gave himself a little shake as they took a moment to readjust before letting go of one another's hands.

Aziraphale had barely taken a step back before Crowley, frowning in a disapproving manner, gently caught hold of him again.

"Oi, your hands-"

Aziraphale didn't have to ask what Crowley was talking about, it was patently obvious that the demon had noticed the faint tremor running through the angel's limbs as they had switched back, though Aziraphale tried to brush it aside.

"Oh- it's nothing-"

"Like Hell it isn't. You're _exhausted_."

"A Principality does not get exhausted, Crowley- now really I just-"

"A Principality doesn't get discorporated, possess a human, fly fifty odd miles on a miracled scooter with passengers, and then try to avert Armageddon all in one day either, but this one certainly did."

"I'm an angel, I'm not supposed to-"

"If you're about to say 'not supposed to get tired' I'm afraid I'm going to have to tell you what utter bollocks that is." Crowley had carefully steered Aziraphale back to the sofa and was grateful to see that despite the angel's protestations, he didn't require much encouragement to sit. "I used to _be_ an angel, remember. We get tired when we push ourselves same as any other entity- fact."

It was true angels and demons had a lot more strength and stamina than most other creations, but Crowley was correct. Though they didn't feel tired in the same way a human did on a daily basis and require regular sleep patterns; an angel or demon was just as capable of pushing past their endurance and draining their essence of energy to the point of exhaustion. Both Crowley and Aziraphale had done this today.

"I shouldn't be feeling as exhausted as this, it's weakness." Aziraphale mumbled, his brow knit and mouth set grimly as he quietly admonished himself.

"Hey, I'm bloody _shattered_; do you think I'm weak then?"

"Of course not! You're entitled to feel tired, you did so much! I barely did anything-"

"I think we had better set a few ground-rules for 'Our Side', so here's the first one: Aziraphale shalt not belittle his own efforts."

"I'm not _belittling_ I'm just-"

"Parroting the likes of Gabriel, yep, got it."

Aziraphale glowered.

"I'm right though, aren't I? That's the kind of rubbish he'd tell you isn't it? 'Discorporation and then safely flying a scooter with humans aboard over a hellish inferno shouldn't make a tough angelic soldier like you tired, Aziraphale, come on buddy, suck it up!'" Crowley affected a truly atrocious mimicry of Gabriel's accent and mannerisms, which had Aziraphale fighting back an ill-bred snort of amusement.

"Well yes, I suppose he _would_ always expect more of me… of anyone really."

"Figures. He'd expect more but probably do bugger all himself." Crowley huffed and then returned to his original point. "Look, we averted- or helped to avert the end of the world today. I think we're _both_ entitled to be worn-out after all that, and we're going to need our wits about us come tomorrow. I'm going to try to rest, but I think you should try to get some sleep as well."

"I don't sleep, Crowley. Besides, one of us should really stay awake, just to be on the safe side. What if I'm wrong and Heaven and Hell _do_ decide to attack tonight and we're caught unawares because we're resting?"

Crowley grunted in consideration before answering. "I can put up some wards around the flat. It'll warn us if anyone tries to get in and should stall them for a while at least. Never done it before because Hell would've been hacked off if it seemed like I was trying to keep 'em out. But that doesn't really matter anymore."

"It still doesn't change the fact that I have never slept before, an angel doesn't require sleep."

"You don't require food either, but you enjoy that well enough. There's nothing wrong in doing as the mortals do, Aziraphale, be that sleeping _or_ eating. Admit it, you need the rest; just take my bed for the evening and try to get your strength back."

Crowley had been about to congratulate himself on a temptation successfully accomplished as the angel had started to look as if he was going to give in, when Aziraphale balked at the last sentence.

"Absolutely not! I'm not about to kick you out of your own bed."

"You're not kicking me anywhere. A lot of the time I wind up sleeping on the walls or ceiling anyway."

Aziraphale's expression softened at this admission, his lips quirking at the mental image it evoked.

"'m a restless sleeper." Crowley grumbled defensively as he noticed the amused glint in Aziraphale's eyes.

"Be that as it may, I still refuse to take your bed from you when you clearly need as much rest as you say I do."

"Well you won't get a decent night's rest anywhere else, the sofa's rubbish for sleeping on." Crowley gave the offending piece of furniture a judgemental poke, as if it was the sofa's own fault it wasn't comfortable enough.

"Quite right, so, if it's not too much of an imposition, why don't we simply share your bed? I saw it; it seems plenty big enough for two."

There was a moment whereupon Crowley opened and closed his mouth several times, leaving him looking rather more like a fish out of water than a demon, followed by him uttering a short string of unintelligible consonants that refused to turn into proper words. Finally, the demon scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck before his hand found itself covering his mouth apparently in a bid to prevent any further ridiculous noises escaping. All the while it seemed Crowley's face was making a valiant effort to turn as red as his hair.

"Er, hnng mmnnyeah, sure… 'courssse. Sssounds, sounds like a plan."

"Wonderful!" Aziraphale beamed, and Crowley found himself thinking, that for all the angel was remarkably clever, he could be surprisingly oblivious when it came to certain facets of social interaction. Case in point, his friend didn't even seem to notice that Crowley had just nearly spontaneously discorporated out of embarrassment… Entirely unnecessary and misplaced embarrassment of course, there was no reason Crowley should feel that way over an angel suggesting they share a bed.

The angel stood, Crowley instantly by his side as Aziraphale still looked a bit too wobbly for his liking.

"The thing is," Aziraphale confessed as they wandered in the direction of Crowley's ostentatious bedroom. "I think perhaps I should just read, it will still be restful, but when I said I do not sleep, I did mean that quite literally. I've never actually _attempted _to sleep before so I'm not sure how one even accomplishes it."

"Reading all night's not going to cut it, angel; you need proper rest after the day we've had. 'Sides, I doubt I've got any reading material that you'll enjoy."

Satisfied that Aziraphale wasn't about to topple over from his exhaustion, Crowley left his side in order to walk carefully about the flat, snapping his fingers at regular intervals and muttering under his breath, placing the promised protective wards.

Aziraphale watched him work with interest and wiggled his fingers in the air to gain Crowley's attention. "Should I maybe add some as well?"

"If you think you can without passing out from the effort then feel free."

Aziraphale only managed to miracle a half a dozen wards of his own until it became apparent that he simply didn't have the energy for any more.

"That's enough, Aziraphale. You need sleep before you go and discorporate on me again."

"But I told you I-"

"I'll teach you. You taught me how to possess an entity, I'll teach you to sleep. Fair's fair."

Aziraphale smiled gratefully and took Crowley's arm as the demon reached his side once more. "Alright then, to bed."

Crowley swallowed thickly and nodded, willing the flush from his cheeks that seemed to want to appear again. "Yeah, to bed."

* * *

"You know generally people don't try to sleep in a waistcoat and bow tie," Crowley drawled as Aziraphale made to sit himself on the edge of Crowley's bed still fully dressed.

"Then what do you propose?"

Crowley clicked his fingers by way of reply and immediately the demon's clothes had transformed into a pair of loose fitting black pyjama bottoms and shirt. "Something looser and more comfortable, like this."

Aziraphale frowned, he did so hate just miracling his outfits, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt just the once given that there was no alternative and he was sure he had enough energy left for so frivolous a miracle as this. The angel copied Crowley in snapping his fingers and was promptly clothed in a pair of pyjamas himself.

Crowley had been half expecting a nightshirt and nightcap straight out of a Dickens novel given the angel's fondness for the style of that era. However, it seemed that the angel had simply replicated Crowley's own nightwear for himself instead. The only differences were that the angel's garments appeared to be made of soft cotton rather than silk, and the colour was- "Tartan check? _Really?_"

Aziraphale stuck his nose in the air and Crowley shook his head as if exasperated, though the way his lips twitched at Aziraphale's huffy response spoke volumes. He was more endeared than exasperated.

Aziraphale gingerly climbed onto the right hand side of the bed and settled down beneath the duvet with an experimental wriggle before his eyes widened and he smiled broadly, relaxing a little more. "Oh I say, this is actually _very_ comfortable."

"Well I'm not likely to make it feel like a bed of rocks, am I?"

"Says he that regularly sleeps on walls and ceilings." Aziraphale quipped with a smug little smirk.

"Not by choice," Crowley grumbled and flopped down on Aziraphale's left and, feeling just a little desire for mischief, briefly considered changing Aziraphale's pyjama colour scheme to red and black just to annoy him, but quickly decided he didn't have the energy after placing all those wards. Instead, he reached out and flicked off the light switch.

The darkness enveloped the two of them like a cocoon though this did not bother Crowley, as his eyesight was just as sharp at night. This was both a blessing and a curse at times. Crowley had always found it useful not to be so reliant upon daylight like the humans or other diurnal species, but on the other hand being able to see Aziraphale nearly as easily as he could during the day whilst having the angel actually _lying next to him_ was awfully distracting.

"What should our… plan of action be come morning then?" Aziraphale turned his head to face Crowley and, had the demon needed breath, would have lost it at the sight of Aziraphale's face far closer than he had expected.

Crowley swallowed and tried for levity. "Was thinking I could try to make us some crêpes. To celebrate y'know."

Probably not his best idea, trying to diffuse tension with jokes, considering that his remark only made Aziraphale's expression turn incredibly soft and affectionate, and Crowley rather wished it was for him alone and not the idea of breakfast.

The angel laughed quietly, eyes crinkling at the corners and Crowley's wish changed to stipulate that even if the expression _was_ regarding breakfast and not solely for him; Crowley would like nothing more than to keep Aziraphale this happy for all of eternity. "I meant what we're doing about this whole body swap subterfuge, my dear. We should probably make sure we have everything worked out before we sleep just in case we need to act quickly when we wake."

"Ah, well. I reckon we should probably swap as soon as we've rested enough, or at dawn, whichever comes first. Then I, as you, can miracle myself back to Soho. I can take a look around and see if any of your lot are lurking there. You should stay here; I'll drop the wards 'round the flat before I leave. As much as I hate the idea, we need to give them a chance to capture us separately. Hopefully, they won't suspect anything that way." Crowley huffed irritably. "I hate the thought of just waiting around indefinitely for them to make a move though."

"It will be tomorrow I'm sure of it. They won't want to wait long."

"How can you be sure?"

Aziraphale tilted his head, expression thoughtful. "It's just a feeling I have. I think they will want to capture us just as soon as they've had time to regroup and arrange our punishments. I imagine they may have to co-operate."

"Heaven and Hell you mean?"

"Yes, they will need to obtain holy water for 'you' and hellfire for 'me' somehow after all."

"Hn, and what if they don't try to capture us straight away?"

Aziraphale pondered this for a moment or two. "If they don't turn up to capture us by… let's say ten o'clock, I think we should probably meet up again to discuss what to do next. Somewhere public, act natural so they don't become suspicious."

"St. James's Park?"

Aziraphale smiled and nodded, though it appeared a touch nervous. "If nothing else we can at least get an ice-cream."

Crowley snickered at that and Aziraphale's smile turned more genuine, clearly pleased that he had elicited such a response from the demon.

"Right then," Crowley faltered, eyes flicking from the angel and then back again, his cheeks colouring once more. "Er, sleeping now then, yes?"

"Yes, of course. So, how does one go about sleeping then? I've seen pictures and read about humans sleeping before, but I never quite understood how they manage it. Does it just happen?"

"Yeah, sort of. When you feel tired, you just go and lie down and your body just kind of… switches off? I mean not entirely, you're still breathing and what not, or the mortals are anyway…" Crowley frowned, trying to think of an analogy for it. "Oh, hey. You know my smartphone, right?"

"Yeees," Aziraphale replied cautiously. Crowley had tried on numerous occasions to explain the contraption to him, and had shown him all sorts of… apertures? No, appliances? Funny little pictographs that one tapped with their finger that would lead the user of the phone to an 'address book' or various games or the world wide web. The Google seemed to be the most popular way to research things. Aziraphale was sure he remembered the rudimentary concept of Crowley's cellular phone at any rate.

"Well you know how after I've been using it for a while I have to plug it in?"

"Yes. You always complain about that. I don't see why you don't just keep it plugged in all the time like a regular phone."

"Kind of defeats the purpose- Anyway, that's sort of what sleep is. When your energy is low, like a phone battery, sleep is like plugging you in to re-energise."

"Say," Aziraphale piped up, still apparently stuck on the topic of the cell phone. "Can't you just use your demonic wiles to keep the battery from draining?"

"Hn, yeah, but sometimes I forget. Wish I didn't. The whole rubbish battery life thing was my own idea. People are so glued to their phones they get really pissed off when they need charging more frequently. Makes 'em easier to tempt when they're annoyed."

Aziraphale's lips twitched suspiciously and Crowley gave him a Look as if _daring_ him to remark on 'evil containing the seeds of its own destruction' again.

Aziraphale, thankfully, remained quiet on the subject, though he did look just a touch smug.

"Anyway," Crowley continued, trying to make his way back to the original topic. "In order to sleep you need to be able to 'switch off' like the mortals do. The best way is to get yourself really comfortable, make sure you're somewhere you feel safe and there isn't any distracting noises or lights, and then you just close your eyes and try not to think of anything. Let your mind go blank and eventually you just… sleep."

He knew it wasn't a very good explanation, and sleeping wasn't really something one could 'teach' another, but it was the best he could do.

Aziraphale seemed satisfied though. He gave Crowley another warm smile, then shimmied in place, burrowing his head more firmly into the pillow as he evidently strived to make himself as comfortable as possible. "Well, most of those conditions have been met already. It's dark and quiet, I know I'm always perfectly safe when I'm with you, and this bed feels just _wonderful_. I'm sure I'll drift off in no time, thank you."

_I know I'm always perfectly safe when I'm with you_. Crowley was quite certain his brain had just short-circuited. Aziraphale couldn't just _say_ things like _that_ and then expect a demon to function! He lay very still for a moment or two, staring up at the ceiling before he managed to gather his wits enough to reply. "Hm, tha'sss - well that's good then. G'night, sleep well, angel."

"Sleep well, Crowley." 

* * *

Aziraphale did _try_ to let his mind go blank and not dwell on any one thought, but every time he seemed about to accomplish this, some errant little notion would niggle, and tickle, and insist he pay attention to it, and he would be roused back to wakefulness. Thoughts like how incredible it was that Crowley should have gone back to a bombed out church in order to retrieve that lectern following Aziraphale's rescue from the Nazis, simply because he claimed he wanted a memento of that evening. Thoughts like how Crowley, though he would probably never admit to it, had always been so kind to Aziraphale. He reassured him, and was patient even when Aziraphale was at his most flighty and unreasonable. He had saved him from discorporation on more than one occasion, had been willing to defy Heaven and Hell to prevent Armageddon, and had put himself in danger just to keep their Arrangement. Thoughts like how Crowley performed honest to goodness miracles for him, bought him gifts and took him out for fine dinners at fancy restaurants, and had offered to run away with him to the stars…

And oh dear, when he thought of it all like that such actions could so easily be interpreted as… well as _romantic overtures_.

Indeed, now that he thought on it, had Aziraphale read all these things in a novel, he would have had no doubt that the character performing such acts of service was trying to court the other.

Aziraphale felt his cheeks warm and his heartbeat skip. Such impressionable things these corporations…

The angel had known he had romantic feelings for the demon ever since that night in 1941, though something told him that perhaps he had loved him for longer still but had simply not realised it. He had never really stopped to consider if these feelings might very well be reciprocated by Crowley. Besides, it wasn't as if Aziraphale could even make his affections known, circumstances being as they were.

Now though…

_Steady on, we're not out of the woods yet. There's still Heaven and Hell to contend with tomorrow. Wait until we're both safe and then perhaps I can find out for sure what _ _Crowley_ _ feels for me._

"Oi."

Aziraphale started and opened one eye, turning his head on the pillow to catch sight of Crowley watching him carefully. "Is something wrong?"

"I can hear the cogs turning in your head from here. I thought you were going to try to sleep. You'll never manage it if you keep fretting."

"I am sorry, Crowley. I think this whole sleeping business might be more difficult than you made it seem. I just can't seem to clear my head."

"Hn, should have guessed as much. Figures a bookworm like you would have a mind that runs a mile a minute."

Aziraphale couldn't even pretend to be offended, Crowley's tone was far too affectionate for the remark to be mistaken as an insult.

Crowley huffed and pushed himself up onto his elbow to look down at Aziraphale. "There's something I could do to help if you'd like. I'm not sure if you'd be willing though; can make some folk feel vulnerable."

"I trust you."

Crowley actually blinked at that. The statement was spoken so readily and full of such soft honesty that the demon was rather taken aback and more than a little pleased.

"You've er… heard of hypnosis I assume."

"Yes, there's a lot of debate amongst the humans though as to what that actually is though, if it's real, and the effects-"

"Snakes can do it."

"Sorry?"

"Snakes- we can- or I can at any rate, hypnotise. It's the eyes y'see, hypnotises people when they stare into them."

Aziraphale frowned dubiously. "I thought that was just a myth."

Crowley grinned, quick and sharp, and just a little tempting. "Where do you think the myth came from?"

"You _started_ it?"

"I was the _cause_ of it. It's just something I've always been able to do."

Had this conversation taken place any number of years ago, Hell maybe even just a few months ago, Aziraphale might have given Crowley a sidelong glance and accused the demon of using this ability to convince people into any number of transgressions to aid his former side. Thankfully, recent events, (in the last week especially) had altered the angel's views considerably and instead he simply queried, "How did you discover you could?"

Crowley shifted, it was clear that the demon was suddenly feeling awkward, and dare Aziraphale hazard… bashful?

"Th'kids."

"I'm sorry?"

"You remember the Ark?"

It was Aziraphale's turn to look awkward, guilty and saddened. "You sneaked aboard with some of the children you had managed to save before the whole place flooded. My dear, I-"

"I know… at first I had no way of knowing what you would do when you found out what I'd done, and I had to keep them quiet in case any of Noah's lot heard them. The older kids were easy enough to reason with and convince, but you can't exactly just tell an infant they have to stay quiet when they're scared and hungry."

"And that's how you realised?-"

"Yeah, I was holding one of the little ones, they were hungry and tired and I was worried they were going to start squalling and alert someone to us all being there. I was just watching them, hoping… _willing_ them not to cry. Anyway, I noticed that as I was watching them, they were staring right back at me. I was telling them quietly that they should just try to get some sleep and then when they woke up I would find them some food. Remarkably it worked. The little tyke just drifted off there in my arms and slept for a good few hours. By which time of course you had found out what I'd done and I managed to tempt you into helping rather than throwing us all overboard."

"I never would have-"

"I know, I know. Anyway, I didn't realise what had happened right after that first time though, thought it was just coincidence, but there were other times after that."

"When?"

Crowley cleared his throat, that soft, slightly self-conscious expression passing over his face once more. "A slave in Rome, poor kid had dropped the stuff he'd bought for his master in the forum. He was scared witless. I was helping him pick up what could be salvaged and he caught sight of my eyes behind the coloured spectacles I was wearing. I thought he'd freak out even more but I was telling him to stay calm and… he just did."

"Crowley…"

"If you're about to say it was kind don't bother. I helped him replace the items for his master by stealing them for him. Completely demonic." Crowley maintained, though his insistence was half-hearted at best.

"Any others? You said 'times' plural."

"Er hm yeah. Some uh plague victims. I mean I couldn't actually _heal_ them, demon and all, wouldn't exactly be able to explain that one away back at head office, but you know they were miserable and suffering so I just sort of did what I could, soothed them, calmed them down, gave them a restful sleep. During the Blitz too, there was a lot of traumatised people after the air raids… Oh, and Warlock. He went through a stage of having horrible nightmares when he was younger, do you remember me mentioning it? Couldn't exactly have the Antichrist, or who we _thought _was the Antichrist, scared of his own shadow so…"

He trailed off as he noticed the open emotion in Aziraphale's eyes, and not even Crowley could find a way to convince himself that the angel was looking at him in any other way than with clear adoration.

"You know Crowley, once we're free of them; you won't have to try to explain away the kind things you do anymore. You can just do them and not have to worry."

Crowley puffed up, the old indignation resurfacing momentarily, only to fade as quickly as it had appeared as Aziraphale's words sunk in and the demon mulled them over. "Hn, I s'pose not. Doesn't mean I'm going to stop doing demonic things altogether though. S'what I am after all. Besides, we've got to actually _get_ to that point first, which we won't be able to do successfully unless we have some proper rest."

"Well then, perhaps you would be so kind as to try that little hypnosis trick on me?"

"Sure, I mean I'm not a hundred percent sure it will work on an angel, but-"

"Worth a try, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Am I alright just as I am here?"

"Yeah, yep. Just stay facing me and keep looking at my eyes."

Crowley lowered himself back down onto his side and caught Aziraphale's gaze. Though the angel's night sight was not nearly as good as Crowley's it was superior to a human's and Aziraphale could distinguish Crowley's eyes well enough.

"I've been meaning to tell you for ages now by the way, I've always thought your eyes very fine you know. They're a lovely colour."

"Wha? Ah- you think? Angel, for sssomeone's sake-"

"I'm only telling the truth." He really was, Crowley could tell from the gentle sincerity in his voice, but the demon could also tell that Aziraphale had enjoyed his flustered response immensely as that grin was much too wide to be completely innocent… bastard.

"T-thanksss, I suppose."

The corners of Aziraphale's eyes crinkled from the breadth of his joy, and Crowley huffed, trying to hide his fond amusement.

"Now, just er, just keep your eyes on me and listen to my voice."

Aziraphale nodded, almost imperceptibly and stared into the demon's eyes with such trusting confidence Crowley almost lost his ability to speak.

"You- you need to sleep. You're tired, weary from all the rubbish we had to deal with today." It was a little awkward to be saying this to an angel, a being just as old as he was and as resilient, one that he had known for millennia, but Crowley forged on, determined that Aziraphale should be properly rested before they swapped places and faced their superiors tomorrow. "Your limbs and eyelids are heavy. You are safe here and comfortable. You need to sssleep."

Crowley knew that his eyes would be completely snake-like by now, wide and staring as Aziraphale met them with an unblinking gaze of his own, though he appeared completely content.

Aziraphale's right hand rose slowly and to Crowley's mild surprise and delight gently took hold of the demons', a thumb stroking slowly over the back of his knuckles.

Crowley met the angel's comforting smile with one of his own just in time for Aziraphale to begin blinking heavily, a yawn breaking their eye contact for a moment.

Encouraged, Crowley continued to murmur instructions to the angel. To relax, to close his eyes, to let himself feel like he was floating and fall asleep.

It didn't take nearly as long as Crowley thought it might, and within five minutes Aziraphale had closed his eyes and had fallen into a peaceful slumber.

Crowley watched Aziraphale for a few minutes more, wanting to make sure that the angel did not wake again before he finally began to relax so he could get his own much needed sleep.

Having Aziraphale in his bed was a joy and distraction all of its own, and Crowley still couldn't be entirely sure whether upon waking Aziraphale might start to feel uncertain and retreat from him or not, maybe agonising over how they shouldn't get too close. Crowley understood of course, it would take time for them both to fully realise that they didn't have to worry about their former sides anymore, and naturally he would always respect the angel's boundaries. He only hoped that perhaps they could discuss… this… whatever it was between them once they were free from their respective superiors, because it certainly felt as if something had changed between them. Crowley was reluctant to put a name to this nebulous, tremulous thing just yet, but he hoped that soon he could.

Things between them had changed indeed, and it would not particularly surprise the pair to find that, when they woke in the morning, they had gravitated towards each other during the night and were now curled together in an intimate embrace; legs entangled, and both angel and demon now close enough for their noses to brush against one another.

There would be some embarrassed smiles and some awkward stumbling and apologies over liberties taken, even though none actually had. They would trade places, discover both a bookshop and a Bentley miraculously restored, they would meet at St. James's Park and be captured, they would fool Heaven and Hell, and then they would be free. Free to meet again, trade back, and go to celebrate at The Ritz.

They would indeed discuss their relationship, probably over some fine wine back at the bookshop, they would happily go at their own pace however slow or fast that may be and just be content that they were finally allowed to have this.

And they will someday move away from London, find a little cottage in the South Downs and live there together, they will be happy, and the world will keep turning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking so long over this chapter, I just hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> This fic is my very first Good Omens fanfic, so I hope I managed to get the characterisations right and didn't butcher the source material too much!
> 
> As always, this is un-Beta'd so please do feel free to point out any glaring grammar mistakes that might be lurking in here. I'm really hoping I can find a Beta-reader to look this over and then I can make any corrections at a later date. I really hate posting anything with incorrect grammar.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!


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